Take these broken wings and learn to fly....

I love the song "Blackbird" by my buddies the Beatles. "Take these broken wings and learn to fly, all your life you were only waiting for this moment to arrive." 

Don't we all feel that way a bit? I think every person at one point of time feels like they have broken wings. Some days it seems like these wings will never fly again. Trying to put my struggles into perspective leads me to believe that "broken" is a very strong word.

Today was strange. It wasn't a nightmare but it wasn't a happy day either. I really was struggling with not eating whatever I could forage from the kitchen. There were some big stresses today and I just didn't want to deal with them. I can't really explain what I was dealing with here. A lot of it wasn't my own stress but trying to be there for someone who is also struggling with change. It's not easy to be strong for others when you feel like you can't even be that for yourself. When you play around with a mood like that for long enough, it's inevitable you get to a pretty self-pitying place.

"I'm broken." That's what we want to think. We want to believe that we'll never change, we are these cracked shells that can never be whole. I felt like a failure. I want to be wonder woman and fix everything. I want to protect my loved ones, be super strong and make awesome decisions. I definitely wasn't wonder woman today and I just wanted to cry. When I feel like a failure I just want to eat. And eat. And eat.

However, I managed to (sort of) pull it together.

I work in the medical field. I see a range of people who deal with a plethora of issues. I've seen people who are truly broken and will never have the life I have. I've seen people who have serious conditions and manage to be the most pleasant patients you will ever meet. It's so easy to be consumed by our own problems that we forget that there are worse things in the world.

I know you are probably rolling your eyes at the slightly cheesy sentiment but sometimes the cheesiest of messages are nothing but true. It's late on a Tuesday to be philosophical but humor me this once will you?

 I'm really nervous to go to WW tomorrow but part of life is facing fears. If I can face my fear than maybe someone else can do the same. One of the best things we can do is lead by good example. Some times it's the only thing we can do. I once read that success was built on failure, frustration and catastrophe. If that is true than I am in for really mind blowing success.

Keep flying.


*Note*
Shout out to my sister for encouraging text messages.

To the person who is also having a hard time dealing. We'll make it through, I promise.

Lust for Life

I'm so glad I went back to WW today. I was tempted to run away because I was convinced I had gained 5 pounds.

 I had lost 2.2 pounds for a total of 18.6.

Pays not to run like a coward, am I right?!

Today I am going to listen to Iggy Pop and dance shamelessly. I think I deserve it.

Spinning Free

"Music washes away from soul the dust of every day life." - Berthold Auerbach.

I first read that quote as a teenager and it has stuck with me ever since. I have always believed music was the perfect salve for my soul. On days like today where my mood is all over the place and I feel like there's an amoeba in my torso freaking out, music helps me cope. It doesn't solve anything. I know that the craziness I feel will have to be dealt with eventually. However, there is a blissful serenity in losing yourself to the strum of a guitar or the sway of a harmonica. The familiar words wash over you and for a moment the world stops. I'm not a musician but I can safely say that I feel the music in my bones.


Maybe the rest of you aren't as fanatical as I am.

Today started out well enough. It was raining all day which never bothers me. The rain is comforting to me. Work was busy but manageable. This coming week is going to be a good one. Much goings on which I will describe later. I think my eating was under some control. I didn't count my points exactly but I didn't eat crap either. I wish I could say that I was nervous about going back to WW this week but I'm not. I know whatever happens I will deal with it. I'm not sure why I feel so blah.

Okay that's a slight lie. I'm having issues accepting the long road ahead. I have a very impulsive nature. This often leads to impatience. I don't mean to be impatient, it just happens. Keeping the strength to push for something so precious is really exhausting. (Husband would probably call me a broken record right about now.) I know what I want and I feel like I've been working my entire life to get it but it's always just out of reach. I want to know why I can't be content with what I have. I'm grateful for all the blessings in my life but there's always a little whisper in my heart that says "what about this?" It changes at the different stages of my life. It was being old enough to drive, then graduating high school, waiting for my boyfriend to propose, then patiently waiting the year and a half for our wedding. Buying a house, finding a job, lose 100 pounds, waiting to afford the ridiculously shiny iPhone. Becoming a mom. Etc. Do we stare so much at the future we can't wait to get to that we forget to live every moment? Am I going to achieve every single thing ever and still wish for more? Am I that selfish?!!

After letting my mind run a couple laps on the crazy track, I decided to turn to music. It works every time. Life seemed to stop spinning and I could get a grip. I think I'm going to trust my heart to fate. If things I dream of are meant to be then they will happen in their own time. I can't control everything and the more I try the more I freak myself out. It goes against my "go with the flow" attitude.

I better charge my iPod. It's going to be a bumpy ride.

Civil Duties

Tomorrow I take on one of the responsibilities of being an American citizen...jury duty.

Is it awful that I'm praying to not get picked? I'm actually very annoyed that I have to spend my entire day off at the court house. I spent quite a few of my youngin' days at the court house and ever since I have not been fond of them. No, I was not a juvenile delinquent. My Mom was a court reporter and occasionally I would go to work with her. For those of you not familiar with court personnel, a court reporter (technically stenographer) is the person listening to court proceedings and writing it verbatim in short hand.

As a young whippersnapper, I thought Mom's job was easy. She can type wicked fast and all she had to do was listen to people. When she retired last year I really thought about her job. She had to sit for hours, listening to multiple people and recording every single word or sound. Every thing that happened in the court room was her responsibility. No daydreaming, no taking a break whenever you felt like it. Also she had to be able to read back on the spot, in short hand no less! I had to take a transcription class and I was able to get most of the translation right, with furious rewinding/forwarding. I can't imagine doing it in real time.

Not to mention the content she had to record. Some trials were your run of the mill stuff. Then there were murder trials. These trials were especially long and tedious. No doubt Mom could tell horrific tales if she wanted to. 

I always found the court house to be a slightly interesting, creepy place. Mom's office had a window, with a great view of the jail across the street. Eating my lunch and being able to see the jailbirds sitting in the windows with their orange jumpsuits was always a strange experience. There was always someone new to meet. Sheriff's officers, clerks, court reporters, secretaries, and judges. The secretaries were always really nice and let me use their loud typewriters. Judges had to be respected and were a pretty big deal. Some were friendly, some not. The sheriff's officers always identified me by my mother. However, no matter who they were there would always be the inevitable, "I haven't seen you since you were a baby!!"

One of the downsides of her profession was that I could not get in touch with her always. While most kids have one phone number to remember, I had an index card. This card was a long list of contacts who I could call to track Mom down and pass on a message. She had break times and a voicemail but most of life's needs don't always fall in those times. If I had to track her down I at least wanted the message to be important.

As I catch up on my reading tomorrow and wait for the end of the day, I'm sure I'll be thinking of all these memories. I have to hand it to Mom, she made a difficult job look easy.

Goodness...

It's April! When did that happen?

I'm happy to say that I am down 16.5 pounds. Pretty awesome right? It doesn't seem like much to me but I can't help giggle when I tell people and their eyes almost bug out of their heads! It helps my ego a bit to hear "WOW, that is so great!" Shallow, I know! There were two weeks when I only lost 0.8 and I wanted to flip. It's annoying to be so close to a full pound and yet so far.

Now that April is here I can't wait to walk every where. I try to take a walk every day. That definitely doesn't happen. Some nights I get home at 7:30 pm and all I want to do is eat dinner and be a couch potato. I've been a slacker this week but let's face it, there's always a week that is hellish and work seems never ending. I'm happy that I made it through and so did my exhausted hubby. Every day is a new day right?

I'm tempted to start a vegetable garden this year. (Have you seen the price of gas lately?) However, one thing makes me hesitate. I don't like to dig in the dirt. Now, I love flowers and gardens but I prefer to take the supervisory role as my husband does the actual digging and weeding. I'm pretty sure this hesitation comes from my absolute loathing of insects.

I keep my distance from any thing that buzzes and/or creepy crawls, and by distance I mean screaming and running like there is no tomorrow. I also think we have a bunny in the neighborhood and I don't want him stealing my veggies. (I know there's fencing but we all know they manage to find a way.) Although, he is a cute little fluffer.

I hope I can get myself back on track with my exercise. My birthday is in a few weeks and I'll be seeing a bunch of family and friends. It would make my year if I could show them that I have changed. If I broke 20 pounds before my birthday maybe I would have more confidence.

I know my family and friends love me. But, there's always that little nagging fear of what they say when you're not around. (That sounds awful but I guess we all have our obnoxious self-conscious moments.)

(Insert Witty Subject Line Here)

I am too frustrated to think of an awesome subject name for this post.

I shouldn't say frustrated. I think a more appropriate word would be disappointed. Last week I was up to 12.5 pounds (or should I say down?). But this week nothing. Nada. Zip. I'm exactly the same. Now, I know what everyone will say. "At least you didn't gain anything." I know. I know. But even the most optimistic of people have to admit that it just sucks.

The whole situation is also annoying because even though the scale is showing a loss, your mind does not see it. The only other noticeable sign that I lost 12 pounds is one pair of shoes fit much better. So the weight comes out of my feet? Are you freaking kidding me? It's weeks like this that make me crazy! I like to think I have an abundance of patience but this is really hard.

I'm not sure what exactly happened this week. I thought I was on track, maybe I wasn't? However, I'm going to try something new. Instead of freaking out and brooding about what I did wrong, I am just going to start fresh. I think my Mom said it best. "Don't get discouraged because that's when things start to go wrong." It's not easy trying to rise above this crap but no matter what happens I'm still heading in the right direction.
 
Other than having lighter feet, I've been at my new job for almost a month. How fast did that go? This job came at the right time. So far this year, four babies are on the way and my best friend got engaged! It seems that everyone is having a life changing year. People keep asking me when we're going to have a baby. I'd like to get a nice figure before I lose it!

A Reason.

I can officially say that I lost 10 pounds. 10 hard earned pounds. It took four weeks but I reached a small milestone.

I am really happy to have lost 10. That would be 2.5 pounds a week without joining a gym, exercising at home and following weight watchers. Some moments I am so happy and so proud that I can't stop smiling. I know that if I really focus and step up the exercise maybe I can surprise myself. Maybe I can double that number in another four weeks. There are some people who can't do that. I am one of the people who can.

But then comes that ever so charming negative part of my personality. After a while I thought, "Well, maybe that is not good enough." When I think about how long I have to go, 10 pounds seemed like nothing. I really want to kick that damn train of thought. I want to be different. I crave the person I will become in the future. I imagine that girl who is thinner, confident, pretty and healthier. I want to be her so badly that I almost want to push myself too hard. I'm noticing that I always push myself too hard so that it is easier to give up. How do I fix that? Does that even make sense?

I have a tendency to beat myself up for not being the best of the best. There's always a push to do more, give more, be more. Sometimes I feel like I have to be superwoman. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted of thinking I am never enough. I'm sick of worrying that I don't live up to other people's expectations.

Now, let me tell you a little story. Bear with me through this tangent....

Here I was feeling like my 10 pounds was not enough and feeling down. I'm sitting on the couch watching one of my favorite Biggest Loser seasons on Netflix. (Cheesy but I forgot just how much I loved this show. It's really inspiring.) Out of the corner of my eye I see my wedding ring has spun around. I move to fix it and notice my engagement ring is loose also. For the past year my engagement ring has been tight. On a few occasions it has been stuck on my finger for days until I could stand to pry it off. I don't know what made me do it but I start taking the rings off. Wedding ring comes off no problem. Engagement ring comes off no problem. I'm staring at the rings in my hand and suddenly it hits me....

10 pounds lost. This is my sign. This is my reason for going through all of this.

This is my first major sign that my hard work really is something to be proud of. Right now it's a ring. The next time I could go down a dress size. Even though I see the same person in the mirror, she's slowly changing. I am different, one baby step at a time.


Screw other people's expectations. This is me, doing what I can to be happy.